Hot Chocolate II
by moor
Summary: Sequel to "Hot Chocolate". Date night! Ryuuki x Shuurei, modern high school AU.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: SaiMono is copyright its creators. (Hint: not me)

* * *

Seiran rubbed at his tired, tired eyes as he accepted the strong cup of—he took a deep inhale, _ohthankthegods_—coffee that was shoved enthusiastically at him.

"The GPS says we're almost there," assured the lively young man at his side as he pulled the car away from the Him Tortons 24-hour donut shop drive-through window.

Seiran nodded through a yawn, laying his head back against his seat, his eyes still closed.

A few minutes later, he felt his brother pull the car onto a rougher surface, the driveway to the Pavilion, he imagined, and slowed to a halt.

The engine was turned off, and the older man chanced a glance at the dash just before the key was retracted.

_4:55 a.m. _glowed gallingly at him in the darkness.

He stifled a very feeling groan.

Then he felt his brother's eager gaze on him.

"Ok, Seiran—I'm ready for my skating lessons!"

* * *

Pushing his silvery hair from his face, Seiran looked sympathetically down at his younger sibling who was sprawled on his back on the ice.

The light was just starting to peek over the trees of the surrounding forest that rimmed the frozen lake, and it was just possible to make out the look of dejection on Ryuuki's face below him.

"I'm not going to get this in just one morning, am I?"

Seiran shook his head, kneeling down to offer his gloved hand.

At his brother's honest response, Ryuuki sighed, his head falling softly down onto the frigid surface once again.

* * *

"Be nice," Seiran hissed through his smile as he escorted his fiancée through the snowy parking lot. "He's nervous enough as it is."

The confident beauty smirked as she arched an elegantly shaped eyebrow at her beloved. "Don't trust me? Seiran, I'm hurt."

"You have exactly one feeling left in your heart, and I know for a fact exactly what moves it. And it certainly isn't by my brother's potential for embarrassment," he gave her a look.

Kouchou returned it, of course, knowingly.

Shaking his head lightly, he followed her lead now as they entered the surprisingly open, wooden-beamed structure. Hardly a shack, the ski and skate pavilion was part of a private country club that catered to the upper class… among other elites. With a quick nod of her head, the 'host' recognized them and turned away. They were never there.

Somehow, neither he nor Kouchou were surprised when they learned that Kou Shuurei was, instead of patronizing the establishment, rather, employed there to serve its clients and members. Despite her own prestigious background, and the fact that she attended school with most of the families who held memberships with the club, she seemed able to fly under the radar—for the most part.

"Oh, is that that Seiga she's mentioned before?" Kouchou asked softly as they settled in at a table near the rear, behind a busy section.

Seiran glanced up to see Shuurei arguing—politely, but tightly—with another co-worker.

"I think so."

She chuckled knowingly, observing the young man's body-language around Shuurei. "Ahhh, I see…."

As their drinks arrived, they settled in to people watch—Kouchou tortured Seiran with a diabolical game of footsie beneath the linen-covered table—and soon enough, they caught sight of their game as he parked his car in the lot.

"You reminded him to leave his driver at home?"

"Yes."

"His security detail came in advance."

Seiran sighed while his stomach started to knot in anxiety.

"At least they're being subtle about it."

His knuckles paled with the tension of holding his cup, as his eyes moved to Kouchou's.

She grinned back at him.

His eyes narrowed, and he gave the waiter a nod to double his next round.

* * *

_Just relax and be yourself. Just relax and be yourself. Just relax and be yourself._

His breathing slightly shallower than normal and his after-shave perhaps a bit stronger than he meant it to be, Ryuuki reminded himself it was just a casual meeting.

Snow crunched under his boots as he made his way to the door of the sprawling, two-storey farmstead-turned-chalet.

There were going to be plenty of people around (to watch him fail), it was meant to get to know each other (not like those god-awful arranged marriage meetings, _omiyai_, he'd had to suffer through), and if all went well, enjoy their time together and possibly arrange a second outing (or return to his residence with his manhood-related confidence in a box, to be stowed away and forgotten for the foreseeable future-at least until graduation).

At least he'd arranged back-up.

"Your Highness," greeted Shuei as he met his sovereign in the lobby. His bow was more of a tilt of his head, but it was more than the young monarch had wanted, and he quickly glanced around to see if anyone had noticed.

"Shhhhh!"

Shuei's grin widened. Oh, he was just too easy to tease. Especially now that he knew the identity of the mystery woman who had captured his superior's attention for so long.

"Kouyuu has a table for us so you don't need to wait alone, sir."

Ryuuki stiffened.

"We're your 'wingmen' for the night."

"I didn't ask for flying servants!"

Shuei tried not to wince—or laugh aloud.

"You won't even notice us," assured the dark-haired man, leading his leader to their table.

* * *

"What's that man doing here with him?"

"Calm down, Seiran, he's probably just acting as back-up."

"But he's a known womanizer—think of his reputation! This is going to reflect poorly on Ryuuki! What if Shuurei judges him by the company he keeps?"

"They're keeping him from bolting—you should send them flowers and thank them."

Seiran twisted his napkin in his lap, his expression placid, but the woman at his side knew better.

"Oh lord love a duck," she muttered, and signaled the waiter to refill Seiran's glass.

* * *

"Why did I have to come?"

"Because we need to make Ryuuki look better."

Kouyuu turned furious eyes on his colleague-slash-frenemy.

"_And what's that's supposed to mean, huh!"_

Shuei chuckled, and Ryuuki sat tensely, sipping at his water.

"Is she looking at me?"

Kouyuu half-stood from his seat, and craned his head all the way around to find out.

"Stop that! She'll know we're looking!"

"What the hell is wrong with that, isn't that what you want!"

"Oh Kouyuu," chided Shuei mildly, as if he were scolding an innocent, ignorant child.

"Please stop making a scene, please stop making a scene, please stop making a scene," begged Ryuuki quietly, his eyes focused on the table in front of him.

"Relax, she knows you're coming. She didn't book out early," chuckled Shuei.

"Did you find the time to practice skating this week?"

Ryuuki winced.

Physically.

"That well, huh?" nodded Kouyuu sympathetically. "Don't worry, skating isn't for everyone."

"Says the man who has the grace of a swan on the ice, and yet who got lost half-way around the oval. On the lake. Right outside the Pavilion."

"WOULD YOU SHUT THE HELL UP?"

**TBC.**

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading!**

**This fic posted December 10, 2010. Hope you enjoyed!**


	2. Chapter 2

There was plenty of room behind the service counter—or so it looked. It just felt claustrophobic when certain individuals were working there.

Together.

With no neutral ground.

Shuurei's hackles rose as Seiga 'accidentally' bumped into her for the -_enth_ time that night.

"Careful, those glasses are fragile," he mocked, sweeping past her with an array of plates and trays balanced on his arms.

"Bite me, Riku Seiga," she snapped under her breath, before whirling around to smile brilliantly at the latest customer who'd come to the counter. "Hello, and how may I help you this evening, sir? May I interest you in a cup of spiced—_Seiran?_!"

**

* * *

TBC.**

**AN: Considering turning this into a drabble-type series… **


	3. Chapter 3

"Excuse me, I was wondering if this seat was taken?"

"We're waiting for a friend to arrive, actually, my apologies. But will you be around later?"

_(Several minutes later)_

"Hi, I saw you had a free seat, and-."

"How about I find you, after our friend joins us?"

_(Several minutes later)_

_(Completely forgoing the chair)_

"Wow, you have a very comfortable lap. I could tell from across the room, and I just had to try it out."

"Your seat is quite welcome, too—may I join you in a few hours, perhaps, once I've finished with my present company?"

"Sure!"

"See you later," Shuei waved casually as the svelte blonde sashayed away.

Kouyuu's eyebrows twitched as he glared at his friend.

"Was that the 8th one? Did you bathe in _pheromones_ before we left!"

"Shh! It's almost time for Shuurei's break!"

"No it isn't, she still has an hour to go!"

"Yes, but that's 45 minutes sooner than before! I'm still getting myself ready! Don't interrupt."

Shuei chuckled from behind his palm, while Kouyuu growled and Ryuuki tried his best to make it look like he wasn't trying his best to impress Shuurei by doing nothing.

And not quite pulling it off.

* * *

**TBC.**

**AN: This fic needs more fluff! And innuendo. Terrible, terrible innuendo… (grins)**


	4. Chapter 4

Seiga glared at the pair currently conversing in quiet tones across the counter. Shuurei's expression had practically blossomed into happiness at the sight of the silver-haired man who'd approached her, her cheeks pinking with excitement, her eyes brightening and her whole demeanour becoming warm and energized. And the man was being far, far too familiar with his pet, in his opinion.

Er…

Mentally shaking himself, Seiga continued bussing the tables—albeit somewhat faster than normal—and with a rough crash of cutlery and tableware, he dropped the basin onto the counter. Right between Shuurei and Seiran.

"Wash these," he ordered tersely, and glared at Seiran again as he moved behind the counter to stand close to her; far closer than was strictly necessary, in fact.

With her mouth tightening in irritation, Shuurei inhaled through her nose—a sign Seiran recognized as her trying to recoup her patience—and bid her 'big brother' goodbye, wishing him a wonderful night with his fiancée.

Seiran didn't bother to hide his smirk at Seiga's wide-eyed surprise when he turned to take his pair of drinks back to Kouchou, easily the loveliest woman in the pavilion.

Said-beauty was watching him knowingly as he set her cup gently into her hands.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing," murmured Seiran, and he hid a smirk.

* * *

**TBC.**


	5. Chapter 5

"I'm going to do it," asserted Ryuuki, his eyes glowing with fiery determination.

"Good."

"I'm really going to!"

"Yes, sir, we know you are. You've been saying so for the last twelve minutes."

"I'm getting hyped up."

"Of course."

"I AM! I REALLY AM!"

"WOULD YOU SHUT UP AND GO ALREADY!"

Ryuuki spared a quick glance at Kouyuu's exasperated form, and re-settled his sights on his target.

The café counter.

"I'm going to go get myself… a hot chocolate!"

With that, he stood and started forward.

"He finally decided," grumbled Kouyuu, massaging his temple.

"Good luck, your Highness!" cheered Shuei encouragingly.

The room suddenly went silent.

Then all eyes turned on the tall, pale-haired young man who stood in the middle of them.

"Oh sh-," started Kouyuu, eyes widening in realization.

* * *

** TBC.**


	6. Chapter 6

"—Seiga, what the-."

"Just… just go take your break, Shuurei!"

"But my break's still fifteen minutes away-."

"Just go!" he shouted, then huffed, "Annoying woman."

Since she'd bid a good night to her 'brother', and Seiga had 'met' him—and her soon-to-be sister-in-law—Seiga had been acting funny. He'd gone ridiculously pale, for one thing, and had suddenly taken over all the behind-the-counter responsibilities, assuring her he just wanted to make sure she wasn't overstressing herself.

Normally he reveled in forcing the hardest, most disgusting jobs on her.

It was truly odd.

But she wasn't about to examine it too hard.

"All right—I'm just going to meet a friend for a bit, then…"

With a perplexed glare at her colleague, Shuurei sighed and took a look around—only to have her gaze lock with that of her 'date'—

-and found the whole room staring at him, too.

* * *

** TBC.**


	7. Chapter 7

Kouchou leapt out of her seat, grabbing Seiran as he'd already launched himself from his own chair to storm to his younger brother's aid.

"I have to go-."

"Stop it, Seiran, he'll be fine!"

"No he won't, look, those bastards threw him to the wolves!" He hissed menacingly. And then, his voice lowering darkly,

"_I'll kill them."_

Now slightly concerned, Kouchou tightened her grip and thought fast.

Whirling around in front of him to block his path, she did the first thing that came to mind—around him.

Which was drop her clothes.

More specifically, her jacket.

Then sweater.

And shirt.

Leaving her glorious upper half clad in naught but her intricately laced, black-ribbon-trimmed, crimson satin corset; which was perfectly acceptable as outer-wear.

…just, perhaps not outside the pavilion's annual Halloween fetish night.

All eyes had whipped from their country's sovereign to their goddess, as she'd intended.

Ensured their attention was distracted from their original prey, the bold woman ignored the crowds, focusing on the man before her.

"But I feel cold," Kouchou murmured smoothly, supposedly for Seiran's ears only-though not _too_ quietly. The beautiful woman could practically feel the rest of the crowd seething with jealousy.

Meanwhile, she slid an elegant hand upwards to cup Seiran's cheek, gently turning his face so his eyes were on hers. Her and only her.

Feminine gaze turned molten.

"Warm me up, darling?" she whispered huskily.

Her eyes hypnotizing his, she moved closer until she pressed herself snugly against his front, her pulse already starting to race in anticipation. Her wickedly grinning lips brushed the shell of his ear, and her voice, full of want, said:

"Now."

Much to her relief, he swallowed.

Then much to her chagrin, his hands slid around her waist, and he started nudging her towards the back hallway.

_Lord love a duck_, she muttered internally, and felt the first tug-and-loosening of her corset strings as he fit a hand between their bodies.

She fought hard not to roll her eyes as the second string loosened.

_Ryuuki, Shuurei, now's your chance,_ she sighed to herself, as Seiran growled against her throat, kicking the closet door shut behind them. Definitely his possessive growl. Hmmm. Perhaps she'd overdone it?

_You've got about—_

-the third string popped, a very male-growl-of-triumph—

_-maybe twenty minutes. Good luck, you two._

Because, you know, Kouchou's willing to take one for the team if it's in the name of innocent young love.

* * *

**TBC.**

AN: There, my badly written sort-of intimacy has now earned this fic its 'T'-rating. XD


	8. Chapter 8

**Prompt: **022. Hands of Fate (from table 50-C)  
**Character/Pairing: **Ryuuki x Shuurei

* * *

Shuurei watched the mood of the room change before her eyes as everyone's attention swerved from the tall, handsome young man before her to her 'brother' and 'big sister' as they exited the room with purpose.

From just down the hall came the sound of a door neatly closing and locking, and some rustling, bumping noises.

_Ahhh,_ thought Shuurei as realization dawned upon exactly what that purpose had been. _Erm…_

Her eyes widened as she turned her attention back to Ryuuki, who stood stock-still in the middle of the room, still facing her, his face a mix of anxiety and determination.

Murmurs and gossip petered in around the edges, and Shuurei realized some were starting to look back to Ryuuki, nudging their colleagues and friends. In the back, she saw a few brave, bold young women standing, catching each other's eyes and setting forth with resolve, straight for Ryuuki.

_Uh oh._

A wanton cry floated into the room from the hallway Kouchou and Seiran had disappeared down, and the room fidgeted as a whole. A few casually leaned forward toward the source of the sound, to Shuurei's shock and surprise. Not all, however. In spite of the smoke-screen Kouchou-neesan was delivering, several of the women kept coming, homing in on the eligible bachelor who had graced them all with his presence, as covertly as he'd tried.

The poor sovereign was about to be eaten alive by gold-diggers, it seemed.

Slipping neatly through the crowds, Shuurei hurried to his side, grabbing his hand.

"Come on, this way," she murmured for his ears only, and tugged him towards the _Employees Only_-signed door nearby.

* * *

**TBC.**

AN: Found a great list of prompts I've decided to use for this story! 100_prompts on LJ, series 50-C.


	9. Chapter 9

Apple – 041 

* * *

When she grabbed his arm, he instinctively balked.

As a child, when someone had grabbed him, it had never been for anything pleasant; even now, his initial reaction was to raise his hands to protect his noggin, to dig in his heels so he couldn't be dragged off, or picked up and hauled away to some forgotten corner or private room.

In truth, his first instinct was to run.

But when the mood in the lounge shifted—he would have words with Shuei later, if Kouyuu & Seiran hadn't already, about his gaffe—and his presence unveiled, his vulnerability exposed to a roomful of power-hungry wolves, she alone had reached out to him with only the best of intentions.

To help him.

To save him.

To protect him… (from… strangers? When he was a grown man?...)

But still! His rose-coloured glasses refused to be tainted.

Her protective actions were for him as a person, an individual, for who he was, not what he was.

Things he'd so rarely experienced since the loss of his favourite brother as a very young child.

It had been so tempting, at the start, to fall back into that old habit of self-preservation, to yank his arm back, evade and hide, to remove himself from the source of his impending pain and humiliation, to prevent the poison from sinking into his skin and grabbing hold, reducing him to a sickly, cowering mass.

But the look in her eyes held nothing but warmth—and perhaps a hint of surprise or concern.

For him, he realized dully, and fought the urge to yank his hand away harder than he'd imagined possible to fight something so positive before.

At his initial tug, though, her eyes had hardened with determination and she'd grabbed his wrist, instead, firmly in her smaller grasp.

"Come here!" she'd demanded in exasperation. "Geez, they were ready to swarm you a minute ago," she muttered under her breath, confused.

"Are you normally this popular?"

She glanced back at him as she let go of his wrist a moment to unlock a heavy-looking door (cleared marked _Authorised Employees Only_).

"I don't know what they see in me," he admitted. It wasn't _evading_, exactly.

When she hip-checked the stubborn door open with a groan, she scanned behind them and noted the individuals (that Kouchou hadn't managed to distract) heading directly for them, no longer casually approaching but rushing, pushing chairs out of the way. And they were completely focused on Ryuuki, like lions on their dinners.

"Tenacious tonight, aren't they? You must look like a popular celebrity or something. Do you have family in showbiz?"

This time when she reached for him, their hands met. Held.

For the first time in over a decade, a different kind of warmth flooded him sweetly at her touch.

* * *

****

TBC.


	10. Chapter 10

Calling – 032

* * *

"What was that about? Are you ok?" Shuurei shoved the door shut behind them, locking it. Assured it wouldn't be budging, and with a firm nod to herself, she turned to look at the man beside her.

"Er…," Ryuuki looked away, unsure. "Where are we?"

Shuurei paused, as if realizing what she'd just done.

Which was, in effect, drag her guest into the upper mezzanine of the building. Alone. In a fairly restricted area.

… and then she noticed she still had a hold on his sleeve.

"We're in the storage area," she explained, taking a step to the side.

And she turned slightly away from him, and couldn't help that it took an extra minute to find the light switch. Just until the heat receded from her cheeks.

For his part, Ryuuki wondered curiously at how noticeable the sudden withdrawal of her soft warmth felt leaving his wrist as his hand drooped back to his side, abandoned.

* * *

**TBC.**


	11. Chapter 11

Fighting – 027

* * *

She collected together a set of cushions and chairs, pulling them down from atop a table. Next she cleared some floor space near one of the large bay windows that overlooked the lake. Outside, the pavilion's spotlights illuminated the lake's scarred surface, and at least a dozen people were enjoying the brisk night air as they circled and spun across the ice on their skates. Through the windows, the spotlights' backglow, reflected in the snow and frost, illuminated the cozy nook they settled in without the need for the overheads, and it leant an intimacy to the otherwise cluttered area.

"You didn't answer my question."

He glanced up.

"Are you all right?"

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Very well, thank you. For rescuing me," he added bashfully, scratching at the back of his head.

Trying to brush it off as no big deal, she waved off his embarrassment.

"Happy to help – but it's so strange; this isn't the type of place to have weird things like that. They're usually only rowdy once they're three sheets to the wind, honestly; it's generally a conservative crowd. Did you happen to see what had everyone so worked up? They're politicians and business types and frankly wealthy nobles – normally it's only really flashy celebrities who stir their interest," she thought aloud, half to herself.

"Ahhhh… hah hah… hah… no, no I have no idea… Yes, definitely strange. Maybe there was… something they weren't used to seeing," he finished lamely.

"So, I hear the hot chocolate is excellent here!"

(He could attempt to divert her attention, at least.)

Suddenly remembering her manners, Shuurei flushed. "Sorry, I pulled you out of there before taking your order – it just seemed like everyone was about to pounce on you for some reason," she muttered to herself, standing. "We have a small employee rest area in the back – could I get you anything? Tea? Coffee? Still want that hot chocolate? We have a few minutes before my break's over, and it would give us some time to talk. And let everyone downstairs calm down again," she added as an afterthought. "But you said hot chocolate, didn't you… ok!"  
With a confident smile, Shuurei slid from her seat to make her way to the tiny kitchenette. "And yes, our hot chocolate is the stuff of legends!"

She smiled, and the young man felt himself returning it automatically, his eyes following her every movement.

As she puttered around refilling the hot water dispenser and gathering the cups and chocolate, Shuurei wondered again about Ryuuki's words.

"_Something they weren't used to seeing."_

A vision of Kouchou shedding her jacket, in the middle of the room, leading away a very willing Seiran, flashed in Shuurei's mind—accompanied by the bedlam such displays usually provoked. She was sure her 'big sister' had inadvertently caused a bar brawl once when she'd 'accidentally' dropped her pool cue and had to bend over to pick it up again—just as her opponent had sprung his shot.

Kouchou had collected a hefty round of winnings thereafter, strangely enough.

Shuurei sighed knowingly to herself.

"Yeah, that was probably it."

* * *

**TBC.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Fading Away – 003**

* * *

For his part, Ryuuki was happy to join her, chat her up about her work, school, and family, and generally bask in the glory that was being the center of her undivided attention for a while.

"But what about you, Ryuuki?" she asked some time later. She only had a few minutes of break left, and it felt like she'd spent the entire time talking about herself.

"Me what?" he asked, suddenly refocusing on her question. He was more enthralled listening to Shuurei speak than sharing anything about himself—though he took it as a very positive sign she was interested in him, too. Really, really positive. Thrilled in fact. Was possibly planning the seating arrangements for their pending nuptials based on this tiny hint of interest alone.

But she'd asked him a question, hadn't she? Oh no, had he waited too long to reply?

Panic set in, and he said the first thing that came to mind; a standard he'd been taught since he was young.

"I have nothing to tell."

Quirking an eyebrow at him, unsure about what he implied, she nodded at his cup and held out her hand to subtly offer him another moment to consider his answer.

Instead of passing it to her, he stood and collected them both, along with their saucers, walking over to deposit them in the sink.

For the first time Shuurei noticed how confidently and gracefully he moved as he strode past her; even moreso than most of the modern nobility downstairs. In fact, it reminded her of –

"Seiran!" she exclaimed, finally placing the similarity.

Ryuuki fumbled the cup he'd been washing, and only his quick reflexes saved it from a shattered death. "I'm sorry?" he croaked, after stilling the urge to ask, _"Where!"_

"You move like my big brother, Seiran!"

While a small part of him rejoiced—who wouldn't be excited about being compared to his incredible brother!—a great, very great, _immeasurably great_ part of him seized and promptly died inside his chest.

Her… big brother?

No, it couldn't be…

But Ryuuki remembered then how easily Seiran and Shuurei had interacted earlier at the counter, and how often she'd referred to 'happy times' with her 'only known family' outside her father…

Were _they_ actually, properly related?

He'd known he had half-brothers willy-nilly; their father had hardly been…

Shaking his head from his fog, he glanced over his shoulder at her, trying to hide his anxiety.

"Do I? Ah… Is that a good thing?"

"I don't see why not!"

Ryuuki cried a little more, on the inside.

* * *

**TBC.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Immortal – 006  
**

* * *

As they spoke, Ryuuki's heart soared with each casual, friendly smile, each shared laugh, each moment of her undivided attention.

They discussed school-related items for the most part—being fairly safe, innocuous common ground.

Or so he thought.

"So you like music? Do you plan on going further with it, as a career?"

After sneaking into the auditorium to listen to her rehearsals as often as he had, of course he assumed she would pursue it. If it hadn't been for Shuei talking him out of it, he had planned on offering her a position as a musician in the court (performance role he would create, just for her). Kouyuu had been quite vocal in his opposition to the proposal, though, now that he thought about it, once he'd lain out the architectural drawing he'd had drafted up for the concert hall he would commission in her name and honour. The pair of advisors had also kyboshed his subsequent request for an additional wing to be added on to this private estate to accommodate a cozy recital hall, rehearsal studio, and marble-floored Artist-in-Residence suite.

With associated private garden.

And controlled-access entrance and escape tunnel, which may or may not have somehow accidentally completely by chance have led straight to his bedchambers. Just in case.

Understandably Ryuuki had been upset when Kouyuu had patiently collected all his swatches and brochures and sacrificially burned them to ash atop his prestigious oak desk. He'd spent hours agonizing over those paint chips, matching them as best he could to what little he knew about Shuurei and her preferences. (Deep reds and cognac-hued browns.)

Kouyuu had even made him cancel the custom-furniture order, when he'd discovered the billing orders. The jerk.

So he had been perhaps a bit too invested in her interests; he might admit (to himself and himself only), and was surprised at how her soft, delicate features sharpened and took on an eager, wolfish quality at his inquiry into her future pursuits.

"I plan on going into finance!" she declared, and promptly pulled out a well-worn, dog-eared, wrinkled so often it was nearly a hankie, piece of looseleaf.

Ryuuki squinted. "Is that written in font 7?"

"6.5. It lists all the exams, certifications and licenses I need in order to become an official Saiunkoku Financial Advisor, Regal Class. See, here's my timeline, here is my goal checklist, the line at the thermometer graphic indicates how close I'm getting-."

"The big section of purple glitter ink is very encouraging…"

She frowned at the reminder. "Yes, Kouchou-neesan 'helped' me with it once," she muttered. "'Lucky Ink' my backside…"

As Shuurei spoke, Ryuuki listened very, very attentively.

He'd recognized Shuurei's intelligence very quickly when he'd first noticed her at school, but the depths of her insight and drive astonished and impressed him even further. Her math and economics skills were the best in her year, (according to the rumour mill), but that she'd already planned her future education and career paths with such detail both impressed and intimidated him. He may have even been just a teeny bit turned on.

But why did she want to be such a high-ranking member of the court cabinet?

"Money," she replied.

Ryuuki deflated slightly, and visibly, since Shuurei's expression shifted, and she turned red.

"Not for me," she hastened to explain, raising her hands before her defensively. "The national treasury. I remember the famine and civil war, and how hard it hit Saiunkou, especially us here in the capital, Kiyou… The treasury was weak before, but was virtually wiped out thereafter. It made us dependent on other provinces and nations, left us with a debt, and in a poor position if it came to negotiations – especially economically. I want to help rebuild our strength, financially, to help Saiunkoku become a more independent player in its own affairs again. I think it can be achieved, and I want to help lead it."

Moved from the tips of his ears to his toes by her impassioned speech, the young man seized her small hands in his larger ones and clasped them tightly, gazing adoringly into her bright, bright eyes.

"I want you to do it, too!"

"I will do it!"

"I want to help you!"

"I… er, I really appreciate that, Ryuuki…"

He shifted closer to her. "Shuurei, I am so moved by your sense of national pride and duty! If there is anything I can do, anything at all, I will move heaven and earth to see it done; even if it means changing the Imperial protocols. An Emperor-."

"Emperor?" broke in Shuurei. Her face darkened, her cheeks taking on a rather fetching pink hue. "Emperor! He's the one I need to speak to!" And by her tone it was evident that by 'speak to', she meant 'straighten out, post-haste'.

"Well, I-."

"Did you hear what he tried to do recently?"

"Er…"

A faint sinking sensation made itself known in Ryuuki's gut at Shuurei's sudden mood swing.

"He wanted to build an addition on one of his own palaces for some musician—and not even a professional; someone no one's ever heard of!"

If he'd still been holding his mug, he would have dropped it to the floor.

"H-how did you hear about this?" he asked, his voice strangled.

"Family friends within the palace; they had to keep it quiet from the press. I couldn't believe it—we're in the idle of an economic depression, and that Emperor's redecorating for some hack guitarist or something he's probably heard on YouTube!"

This time he did drop her hands—or, rather in her exuberance Shuurei pulled hers free, and he let his drop into his lap.

"I'm sure… I'm sure it's a big misunderstanding. What if he'd intended to help the artist, perhaps assist them in gaining recognition to improve their quality of life? You're a musician, Shuurei—wouldn't you have appreciated the opportunity to study and improve your skills as a musician-in-residence, if such a position or opportunity presented itself? To be remembered and admired for your talents?"

"If this was a position that could have been applied for by anyone; where there were consistent standards to be met; equality in the adjudication of all applicants; then, perhaps, yes. But this was a decision made by a selfish, spoiled ruler based on personal whims. It wasn't made in order to help anyone but his own interests." She scoffed, mumbling, "It was probably one of his own friends. How would that have helped anyone? It would have ruined the reputation of the artist in the end, too – no one would have respected them, no matter what their talent thereafter. Because it would have been such an obvious example of nepotism. The entire position would have been a sham."

Ryuuki tried to swallow.

He tried so hard he paused to clear his throat and rub his neck, glancing away from the bitter frustration he glimpsed in the set of her jaw.

"So… that's why you'd like to become a politician?"  
"Yes," she said firmly. "In order to help _everyone_."

He felt himself nodding, pasting a fake smile on his face in the ensuing silence.

"You'll be immortalized in the annals of history as the woman who gave this country back to her people, Shuurei," he remarked softly, a solemn note in his tone. "Any ruler would be proud, and fortunate, to have you in his cabinet."

"I am dedicated to Saiunkoku," she admitted proudly. "I will do anything in my power to restore her."

As he smiled back at her, Ryuuki wondered if he could be more like her, and how he could possibly start making better use of his power, too. 

* * *

**TBC.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Tender – 015  
**

* * *

"Time to head back," Shuurei held the door open, ushering her guest through, but stopped when he turned to her, his hand just above hers on the wooden door.

"Ladies first," he explained after a moment, when she didn't automatically walk through.

"Oh. Right. Thank you," she said, and smacked the light switch on the wall soundly, trying to shake off the thrill of pins & needles that had stolen up her arm at his touch. The heat was acting up again, it was far too warm suddenly, she found. And it was important to save energy, to turn off unnecessary lights, to unplug appliances you aren't using, etc., etc…

While Ryuuki knew it was wrong, very wrong, to do so (in light of her potential status as his sister of all cosmically-wrong things!), he let his hand lower and cover hers to pull the door shut; then let it fall to her back to guide her, as the gentleman he was raised to be. (And all the while Shuurei cursed that damn malfunctioning furnace, again.)

At the bottom of the stairs, she cracked the door open to peer outside.

"The masses have calmed down, Miss," a smooth, low voice whispered from just beside her ear on the opposite side of the door, so close it startled her and made her jump.

Sensing her scream, quick as lightning the tall man swooped through the doorway, covering her mouth with his wide, calloused hand.

"Forgive me for kidnapping you, but we need a quick word."

Ryuuki swallowed a groan.

First he's (potentially) related to his love-interest, now this?

Worst. Date night. Ever. 

* * *

**TBC.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Turn Away – 020  
**

* * *

"Sorry, I didn't mean to surprise you," the newcomer admitted, and Shuurei, livid, glared up, up, up into—

-into the most hypnotizing pair of indigo eyes she'd ever seen. And promptly swallowed her tongue.

"Shuei," growled Ryuuki, "Let her go! She can't breathe!" he hissed.

That isn't why I can't breathe, the young woman thought to herself fuzzily, and bit her lip when he released her. Tasted blood. Received confirmation she was officially not dreaming.

"Just checking up on things," the handsome man assured them.

"I'm fine," she lied.

At the subsequent pause, she glanced up at the two men as something unspoken passed between them.

"Just fine," repeated Ryuuki brightly. Shuei didn't miss the stiffness in the tone.

"Of course… I apologise again for intruding and startling you." His voice, so sincerely (and sinfully) apologetic, smoothed over Shuurei like warm chocolate.

Escorting them back into the main lounge area, he fell in step beside Ryuuki who still had not fooled his personal body guard with his overly cheerful expression. (Shuei mentally bookmarked this to discuss later. Really, hadn't Ryuuki appreciated the effort he'd gone to to getting the little pair together, alone, away from prying eyes?...)

"Why is everyone at the windows?"

The young woman noticed immediately that the majority of the customers had flocked to the huge panes. Something was happening outside, on the lake.

Shuei smirked.

"They got distracted."

Which was when Ryuuki noticed -

"...Where's Kouyuu?"

Shuei grinned even wider.

"See for yourself…"

* * *

**TBC.**


End file.
